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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23696065">upon the waking of the spring</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/besidethesea/pseuds/besidethesea'>besidethesea</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>with a faery, hand in hand [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Fae &amp; Fairies, Fae Jaskier | Dandelion, Faerie Courts, First Meetings, Gen, I'm making this shit up as I go, M/M, Meet-Cute, Non-Human Jaskier | Dandelion, Not Beta Read, Pre-Slash, Prince Jaskier | Dandelion, Seelie Court, Unseelie Court, as usual geralt pissed somebody off, no beta we die like renfri</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 18:08:48</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,074</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23696065</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/besidethesea/pseuds/besidethesea</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>When Spring comes along, and brings with it new life, Jaskier finds the man with white hair asleep on a bed of violets. And, though they’re not meant to meddle with the Fates of humans, Jaskier just can not resist.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia &amp; Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>with a faery, hand in hand [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1734118</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>36</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>683</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>upon the waking of the spring</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When Spring comes along, and brings with it new life, Jaskier finds the man with white hair asleep on a bed of violets. And, though they’re not meant to meddle with the Fates of humans, Jaskier just can not resist.</p><p>
  <strong>***</strong>
</p><p>Once, when Jaskier was young, barely the size of a firefly, he stumbled upon a group of human children playing in the Faerie Wood. It had been the cusp of autumn and, naturally Jaskier was somewhere he was not meant to be. He should have been deep in the Realm of Faeries, awaiting the spring by dancing merrily and singing the songs of the spring breeze with his sisters. Instead, he’d wandered off, out of curiosity for how the other Courts brought upon their seasons, and been forever changed.</p><p>Of course he knew of the cruelty his brethren—and himself—were capable of. He had heard his mother and her ladies whispering over the Autumn and Winter Courts natural inclination towards tormenting the humans, whereas the Spring and Summer Courts were more tolerant and curious towards the creatures. But this had been the first time Jaskier witnessed it for himself.</p><p>The children had been playing a game, where one of the children wore a scrap of fabric over their eyes and tried to find the others. Jaskier had been delighted; flitting about and tugging on strands of hair and whispering encouragements that would sound like the breeze, careful not to be seen. It had been a grand old time—until the Autumn Court rose up and started a game of their own. Jaskier had no choice but to hide in the boughs of a willow and watch as the children fled the wood, screaming and crying and batting at invisible needle-fingers that clutched their clothes and skin and left behind trails of crimson blood.</p><p>As silence reigned once more, one of the fae found Jaskier hiding and matched his horrified look with one of contempt. “Humans are weak, Prince of Spring,” he had said, watching as their brethren lost interest in tormenting the children and went about their Autumn Court duties. Leaves began to change, gradually, before Jaskier’s eyes. How peculiar that hands that brought upon such beauty could also bring so much pain. “You will do your best to let them be, when given the chance. Most times they will bring upon their own suffering.”</p><p>Jaskier, just wishing to be dismissed so that he could flee to the safety of his own court, had nodded and gazed at the clouds of dust still settling from frantic feet.</p><p>He vowed then, if he were ever to witness such cruelty again, that he would not stand for it.</p><p>
  <strong>***</strong>
</p><p>The man is still breathing, when Jaskier flits above his pursed mouth, so that’s a relief. He takes a moment, then, to take in the mans’ appearance. Skin almost as pale as the snow that had once covered him, long hair to match. He has a decent sized beard, which just shows how long he’s been asleep. Jaskier mutters a curse; the Winter Court have had their fun, then. The man is dressed all in black, leather armor covering his top half and two very scary looking swords peeking out over his shoulder. And, if Jaskier weren’t a fae and capable of incomprehensible forms of violence himself, he would be <em>terrified</em>. As it stands, however, he’s only <em>distressingly</em> aroused. Because this is the most beautiful human he’s ever seen; swords, scars, bulging biceps and all.</p><p>Without thinking of the consequences—a <em>very </em>Jaskier thing to do—he concentrates his energy on growing in size, until he’s roughly the height of an adult human male. It always feels silly, when he does this, to be dressed in his scant leaves and spider-silks traditionally worn by the Spring Court. It never looks as charming as when he’s in his fae form. Nevertheless, Jaskier approaches the man on bare feet and kneels at his side.</p><p>The violets have grown around his hulking form, spreading through his white hair and curling around his lax arms. As if they’re attempting to make him one with the earth. Most likely, that’s what the Winter Court had planned. This is not the first sleeping human he’s heard of, but it is the first he’s seen up close.</p><p>Which brings to question: how to wake him?</p><p>Jaskier sits back on his heels and bites his lip, careful not to split the tender flesh with his sizable incisors. Being human-sized always makes him forget his own strength. If he were to interfere with magic, the Winter Court would most assuredly know and make him pay. The only course of action, then, is for the man to wake naturally. Whenever that may be.</p><p>Jaskier sighs and folds his legs underneath him, picking at a few of the violets that begin to grow at his feet. Well, if he’s going to wait awhile, the least he can do is keep himself occupied.</p><p>
  <strong>***</strong>
</p><p>The sun is just setting when the white-haired man awakens, his whole body tensing with his harsh inhale of breath. Jaskier jumps from the fallen log he’d been perched upon, braiding a crown out of daisies. He already has one made from violets placed lopsidedly upon his head and a small pile of them beside him; honestly, the man had taken his sweet time waking up.</p><p>“Oh, good, you’re awake.” Jaskier crawls towards the man as he tries to sit up, hissing as he does. “Yes, I’d be careful. Looks as if the Winter Court did a real number on you.”</p><p>Now that they’re open, and squinting at the trees above him, Jaskier can see that the mans eyes are a peculiar shade of amber. With pupils like a cats. Interesting. He really is the most gorgeous thing Jaskier’s ever seen. So, of course he has to open his mouth and ruin it.</p><p>“Where the fuck am I?”</p><p>Jaskier sighs, thankful for the times he’s spent in human taverns and how accustomed its made him to their gruffness. “Hello to you to, friend. Tell me: what did you do to upset my brethren so?”</p><p>He watches as the man sits up slowly, pulling up violets and grass as he goes, and runs large hands over the impressive beard growing upon his chin. “Hm, exist, most likely.”</p><p>Jaskier steps back hurriedly as the man began to rise, pushing himself to his hulking full height and making the fae’s mouth begin to water. He stands quickly as well. “I see; yes, that would do it. But why come into the Faerie Wood in the first place?”</p><p>Putting, frankly, <em>exquisite</em> legs underneath him, the white-haired man stands with all the grace of a newborn fawn. The sight is endearing, despite the mans’ frightening stature. Oh, Jaskier is clearly done for. He thinks he won’t get a response, for he’s correctly guessed that this man isn’t one for conversation, so he’s taken aback when, whilst he’s gathering more meadowsweet into a bouquet, the man replies. “There was a wyvern, attacking the nearby village. The alderman said it’d been taking its victims into these woods. Hired me to take care of it.”</p><p>Jaskier lights up and, if he had his wings out, would have flown to the treetops at the news. “A <em>wyvern</em>! How <em>fascinating</em>! Tell me, are they as magnificent in person as the tales say?”</p><p>Now the man looks at Jaskier much like his brethren, like he’s a creature they’ve never seen before, and Jaskier sighs internally. “It was…a wyvern,” the man replies after a moment, seeming to finally regain his footing enough to manage a few steps further into the woods. “My horse is nearby.”</p><p>“Oh!” Jaskier chirps, rising to his own feet. “Is that beautiful beast yours? She’s been wandering around here for <em>months</em>. No one’s been able to get her to leave, which is a remarkable feat when it comes to the fae. We usually always get what we want.”</p><p>A new noise—a snort of, dare he say it, <em>amusement</em> leaves the man. “Fae aren’t real,” he intones, beginning to tread in the direction that Jaskier knows the horse is, as if this common knowledge and Jaskier is being deliberately obtuse. Instead of, you know, an <em>actual fae</em>.</p><p>“Oh ho, dear fellow, how wrong you are,” Jaskier calls, all but bouncing after the man. His wings materialize at the wisp of a thought and then Jaskier is fluttering inches away from the mans’ face, grinning in delight at the shock written there. “I think I would know better than you, regarding the existence of my kind.”</p><p>The mans’ lips thin into a bloodless line, “Hm.” Then, he continues on towards the small clearing where Jaskier knows the horse has been waiting all these months.</p><p>His wings disappear in a wink as he hurries after the man. “Really? <em>‘Hm’</em>, that’s all you’re going to say? No <em>‘fae exist?! How wondrous!’ </em>No <em>‘oh please, have mercy on me, o’ one of the fair folk!’ </em>No? Really.” The man ignores Jaskier, instead, striding across the small clearing they’d entered and taking the mares’ muzzle between his two strong hands. The sight of him gently resting his head against the horses’ forehead made Jaskier want to turn ten shades of pink. If that were possible.</p><p>Jaskier sighs and plops down, cross-legged, on a rotting tree stump. “That’s quite the beast you have there,” he says, resting his chin on fisted hands. “Held her own these long months. When the Winter Court finished with you, they tried to mess with your belongings as well. And <em>oh ho</em>, she did not like that! She bit at Prince Valdo; nearly took his wings off.” Jaskier sighs once more, this time dreamily, at the vision. “I’m told it was quite the sight to behold. What I wouldn’t give to have witnessed it.”</p><p>The man huffs, the only sign he gives that he’s amused. “She doesn’t like to be touched,” he says, running a hand over her flank affectionately before beginning to dig in his saddlebags.</p><p>“Oh, that I could surmise perfectly, dear fellow,” Jaskier says drily. He continues to watch the man as he finishes checking his belongings and then grabs the mares reins and begins to head towards the exit of the wood. Jaskier realizes, with a start, that this means he’s leaving. The first interesting being that has wandered across his path intends to leave just as quickly as he came. And Jaskier can not have that. “Wh—hey, <em>no</em>! You can’t just leave! Not without introducing yourself!”</p><p>The man pauses, but keeps his back to Jaskier. Rude. “Giving your name to the fae is an act only a fool would commit,” he replies, making to leave once more.</p><p>“And only a fool would wander into a fairie wood!” Jaskier snaps back, planting his hands on his hips. “I thought you didn’t believe in the fae, anyhow.”</p><p>He grunts. “I’ve been wrong before. Now let me leave, fae, before I feel the need to use my silver against you.”</p><p>Jaskier panics, then, and does a very, <em>very, </em>stupid thing. “My name is <em>Jaskier</em>, you oaf!”</p><p><em>Well, </em>he thinks, <em>now you’ve truly gone and done it, old boy. The Court will surely punish you for this foolishness.</em></p><p>Except…except.</p><p>The man walks a few more steps, his horse huffing impatiently at his side as he slows to a stop once more. In human form, Jaskier is an unfortunate victim to perspiration. His brow is damp and he can feel tiny beads racing down the length of his spine. Any minute that man will turn and use his name against him. Jaskier will be forced into servitude for the rest of his days, never to see his family again. Actually, that last bit wouldn’t be <em>too </em>awful. It’s not like his family is overly fond of him and his antics anyway. Decades of sneaking off to learn the ways of man will do that to a fae. He knows humans, he’s seen their kindness and their cruelty with his own two eyes.</p><p>Which is why Jaskier is surprised into almost materializing his wings when the white-haired man says, without any hint of emotion in his voice, a name. <em>His </em>name. “Geralt.” And continues leading his mare out of the faerie wood.</p><p>And Jaskier, foolish creature that he is, takes this as the invitation it so clearly is.</p><p>He follows and continues following.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>whoops I went and fell down the geraskier well. can you send down troy's bucket? no? ah, that's okay it's rather nice down here. </p><p>might add more installments to this in the future, but for now this is it. enjoy! xx</p><p>waterloosunset17.tumblr.com</p></blockquote></div></div>
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